A Rose for My Guardian
by m00s3
Summary: Becoming friends with a Winchester is the best decision Nichole Phillips has ever made. But does she really know anything about Sam? With his help escaping her abusive boyfriend, she takes off Sam on a journey of self discovery in the form of hunting. Hit by a sudden onset of emotions, Nichole has to decide if she in love with Sam or is she just having feelings for her rescuer...
1. Chapter 1

Crash! Boom! Bang! These were the typical sounds in the apartment. It never took much to upset Spencer. I could sigh, or take a deep breath and he would think it was because I was pissed at him. When he was angry like this, anything within reach ended up broken or as something to hit me with. I spent many mornings trying to hide the bruises and scrapes I ended up with.

Tonight was no different. I was sitting on the couch working on a project with my friend Sam. Sam didn't go to my college, but he was always willing to help me. He was incredibly smart. Not to mention easy on the eyes— lean and muscular with gorgeous green eyes and shoulder length brown hair. Spencer walked in the door, much earlier than I'd been expecting. To say the least, he did _not_ look happy.

"What the fuck?!" he yelled.

"Spence, this is Sam. We're _just_ friends and—" he didn't even let me finish my sentence.

"You stupid bitch! I come home from a shitty day, and what do I find? My girlfriend on the couch with some other guy!"

"I don't want any trouble," Sam started. "We were working on this project for her class."

"I don't give a fuck what you two were doing! Get out of my fucking apartment!" Spencer yelled.

"I'll see you later Nicky. If you need me, you know where to find me. We can finish this later," Sam said as he picked up his stuff.

Spencer slammed the door behind Sam. "What the hell was that?" he snarled.

"We were working on a project for my class. Nothing was happening!" I said, trying to defend myself.

"Bullshit! You were cheating on me!" he yelled as he picked up a boot by the door. He chucked it at me and it barely missed my face. I ran out of the living room toward the bedroom with Spencer tailing me, shoving things out of the way. Chairs went flying across the apartment, pictures were broken, and furniture was moved violently out of the way in his pursuit of me.

I ran to the bedroom and locked the door behind me. For good measure, I stuck a chair under the doorknob. It wouldn't hold him for long, but it would hold him long enough for me to shove some things in a bag. I started throwing as much of my stuff into my duffle bag as I could. I managed to get at least most of my clothes shoved into the bag with a little room to spare for special items. I ran into the connected bathroom, shoved my toiletries in the bag, and made a quick scan of the room.

Spencer was trying his hardest to get into the room. I could hear him repeatedly running into the door, and twisting the knob as hard as he could. I quickly grabbed my laptop and charger and then stashed the bag under the bed. I had just managed to stand up as the sounds outside the door finally stopped.

"Nichole? Baby, please come out," I heard him pleading. "I'm sorry I scared you." He was crying now. Dammit. He knew that was my weakness. After trying to wait out the fake crying, I finally gave in. I couldn't stand to hear him cry. I moved the chair and unlocked the door. He had retreated to the couch and was sitting there crying.

I warily made my way to the couch, and for my efforts, I earned a scowl. I sighed and sat down beside him.

"I love you, you know that right?" he said.

I stayed silent. Obviously that didn't sit well with him. "You know that. Say you know that."

I still stayed silent. This still did nothing but make him angry again. I earned a hard slap to the face. He got up and locked himself in the bathroom.

Thinking quickly, with my face stinging and eyes watering, I quietly ran to the bedroom, removed my bag, packed it with as much as I could fit into it, and hid it in the closet by the front door. I texted Sam, telling him Spencer was really angry and had hit me again and that he needed to come get me _now._

I paced the living room, praying Sam got my message in time. I heard the lock on the bathroom click and the door start to open. I checked my phone quickly, and saw a message from Sam.

"On my way back. Be there in like five minutes."

"Just walk in," I responded, just in time for Spencer to see me shove the phone in my pocket.

"Who were you talking to?" Spencer asked.

"No one," I lied. "I was checking the time."

"There's a perfectly functional clock over there on the wall," he scowled. "I'll repeat the question. Who were you talking to?"

"Spence, that's none of your business," I said with as much courage as I could muster.

"Give me your phone," he said with his hand out.

"No."

"Give it to me."

"I said no Spencer."

"Nichole, give me the phone or I will physically take it from you," he said as he took a menacing step toward me.

I instinctively backed away. "I'm not going to give it to you."

That was all it took to set him off again. Before I knew it, I was on the ground with him sitting on me, grabbing at my pocket for my phone. He successfully extracted it from my pocket and let me go.

Typing in my password, he saw the messages between Sam and I. "What the fuck?!" he screamed. "You are _not_ going with that guy, you little slut!"

"The hell I'm not!" I yelled.

He came over to me again. This time seething with anger. He shoved me against the wall, pinning me there with a hand to my throat. "You are not going anywhere, you whore. You belong to me, and not to that bastard." He threw me down to the floor and I hit my head on the floor hard enough to really hurt and make me dizzy. Spencer rolled me onto my back and sat on me. Then he did something he hadn't done in months: he punched me. I felt his fist connect with my cheekbone. I was seeing stars for the second time.

Just as he was rearing to hit me again, Sam walked through the door. Sam took a survey of the room, the toppled furniture, the broken pictures, and the rest of the mess. He crossed to us in four steps and pulled Spencer off me by his shoulder and shirt. Finally freed from under Spencer, I could breathe again.

"The hell, man?!" Spencer shouted. "I thought I told you never to come back!"

"You really think I'm going to leave her here with an abusive dick like you?! Dude, you're sick." Sam crossed back over to me and helped me up. "Do you still need to grab anything, Nick?"

I nodded.

"Okay. Get what you need and then we'll leave," he said softly.

"She is _not_ leaving," Spencer said as he began to come at me again.

Faster than I thought possible, Sam produced a gun out from the back of his pants. "She's coming with me, asshole. You have no control over her."

Spencer backed off, hands in the air. "Dude, what's with the gun? Can't we handle this without it?"

Sam laughed. "You had your chance. Now, she's going to get her stuff, and you're going to stay right there where I can see you."

I quickly grabbed my phone charger and my backpack with all my books as quickly as I could with my head spinning the way it was.

"Anything else, Nicky?" asked Sam.

"Just a bag in the front closet," I said.

"I've got that," he said in a soft voice. He lowered the gun and went to the closet and grabbed it. "Let's go."

I made it to the door fine, but as Sam and I were making our way to the stairs, Spencer came running out. Sam couldn't get to me quick enough and Spencer pushed me down the stairs. I hit the radiator with my head and my bags came rolling down after me. My ankle hurt like hell and I could feel something running down the side of my face. I reached up and my hand came away with blood.

As Sam came rushing down the stairs to make sure I was okay, Spencer called out from the top of the stairs, "Here's your phone, you stupid, cheating bitch!" My phone came flying down the stairs and hit me square in the mouth. I tasted blood. Sam slung my backpack onto his shoulder, as well as my purse. Then he stuck my phone in his pocket and helped me up.

When I gasped with pain, he picked me up and carried me down the other set of stairs, despite the load he was already carrying.

We left the building with Spencer still screaming at us. People were starting to open their doors to see what all the commotion as about. I bet I was a remarkable sight… Blood running down my face, bruised, and being carried down the stairs.

Sam carried me all the way to his car, a 1967 Chevy Impala. He had told me before that this was his brother's car. It didn't matter at that moment. Getting away was all I cared about. He opened the door and gingerly placed me in the passenger seat. He closed the door gently, placed my belongings in the trunk, and climbed into the driver's seat.

"We're going to the hospital," he said softly.

"Sam, no. We can't."

"Nick, we need to. You're ankle is probably broken. At the very least, it's sprained really badly. And you might have a concussion."

"Sam," I said despite the lump in my throat. "I can't. Do you know how many times I've been there in the last six months? I probably already have a waiting room with my name on it."

"I didn't mean your hospital. We're going to the emergency room close to where I live. They don't know you there."

I couldn't help but cry. God, it hurt my head to cry. Sam handed me a rag from the back. "Put this on your head. Make sure to keep pressure on it."

We drove off, heading east. Less than twenty minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot of the ER. Sam, again, came to my side, opened my door, picked me up, and carried me inside.

We filled out the necessary paperwork, and in no time were in a room. I hated hospital rooms. I had been to so many since I started dating Spencer. White rooms with stupid boarder wallpapers, smelling of disinfectant and bodily fluids. A nurse came in and took my vitals. She gave me a few wary glances and left.

About an hour later, the doctor strolled in. "So what happened? Did you lose a fight?" he laughed.

"Basically. I lost a fight with myself," I lied. "I tripped and fell down the stairs. I hit my head on the radiator and must have hit my face in a couple places on the way down. I came down on my ankle wrong, too." I pulled up my pant leg and showed the doctor my ankle. It was swollen to at least three times its normal size.

"Good news about the ankle. It's not broken. I can tell you that much. If it was broken, it would be purple. Now, as far as hitting your head, I'm going to need to run a couple of tests. I'm going to guess you have a concussion. We'll get those tests set up straight away." The doctor smiled and then left the room.

I sighed heavily. At least my ankle wasn't broken. But tests? For my head? I looked over at Sam who was looking at me with concern.

"I'm fine," I managed to get out.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but his phone started to ring. He dug it out of his pocket and answered, "Hello? No I'm at the hospital with Nichole," he paused and listened. "No, I don't know how long we're going to be here. I'll be back as soon as I can. And Dean, don't drink all the beer this time. Save some for us." He listened again, rolled his eyes and laughed. "No, I'm bringing her back with me. She needs a place to stay. I'll explain it all later." The doctor came back in the door. "Gotta go Dean," Sam said and hung up.

"We seem to be experiencing technical difficulties tonight. Good thing we don't have anyone else with head injuries tonight. I can do a few simple tests here in the room that will help me decide whether or not we need to see you again for more testing. Sit up straight for me, dear." The doctor stood in front of me and shined a flashlight in my eyes. He tested my balance and coordination as well as my reflexes. "Keep your head still and follow my finger with your eyes," he instructed.

After what felt like hours, he was finally done examining me. He concluded that I did in fact have a concussion but it was not severe. "Just keep an eye on her for the next few days. If she starts to get worse, bring her back immediately. She can also take over the counter pain medication to help with the headaches she is going to be experiencing," he began to leave the room, but stopped in the doorway. "And be sure to wake her up every few hours for the next couple of nights." He looked over at me. "Be careful on the stairs from now on, young lady," he smiled and left.

After that, the nurse came back in and took my vitals a second time, I signed some discharge papers, and we were leaving the hospital.

Sam helped me to the car and opened the door for me. As he assumed his position behind the wheel, he said, "We're going to stop at the drugstore and get you a brace or wrap for that ankle. We can also get you something for your head." He smiled softly and we drove on.

We stopped at the drugstore and bought a wrap and ice packs for my ankle, as well as a fuck ton of pain killers. I rolled my eyes, but I knew that Sam meant well.

As we exited the drugstore, Sam pulled out the ankle wrap. "Sit on the hood of the car and take off your shoe," he said softly.

I did as he asked and pulled up the leg of my jeans enough so he could see what he was doing. Sam took great care in wrapping my ankle. It was tight, but not too tight. When he was finished, he secured the wrap with the clips and taped them with athletic tape. He helped me down off the hood of his car and we took off toward his house.


	2. Chapter 2

I was surprised to find out he didn't live in a house. He lived in a bunker. At first I was confused. I didn't know what to think. I had never seen where Sam lived; I'd just always assumed he lived in a house.

We grabbed my stuff from the car and walked inside. As we came down the steps, we were greeted by Sam's brother, Dean. I'd only met Dean one other time and that was years ago. He matured a little since I'd last seen him. He noticed me limping and took the bag I was carrying from me. "Honey, you don't need to be carrying that if you're injured. Have a seat over here." He led me to an overstuffed chair with an ottoman. "I'll be right back with some ice."

As Dean left the room, I glanced over at Sam who was watching his brother with a tight-lipped expression. "Everything okay, Sammy?" I asked.

"Yeah. Things have just been a little tense since the last hunt. We've mostly been cooped up here, not a lot of outside action. Dean's getting cabin fever and so he's getting irritable."

Dean returned with a bag of ice and three beers. "Want one?" he asked me.

"Uh, sure," I said hesitantly. I took the beer and twisted the cap off. I had only drank a few other times, but I had never gotten drunk. Just tipsy. I knew wherever I went, I would end up having to drive Spencer home. He always got blackout drunk. He was a sexual and violent drunk.

The boys looked at me with expressions of surprise.

"What?" I asked.

Dean was the first to speak up. "Uhh, it's just… We've never seen a girl open a twist cap so easily before."

I looked back at him, then looked away. "It's not something I'm proud of," I said. "Spence used to make me twist off the caps until I could do it without making myself bleed."

Sensing the need for a subject change, Dean said, "You need to get that ankle up."

"What?" I asked confused.

"Your ankle. You need to elevate it. Here," he said. "We'll move you to the couch where we can elevate your ankle with pillows." He cleared off the couch and helped me to my new spot. Sam brought him some pillows and they gently elevated my sprained ankle.

Dean looked at Sam. "Heard from Cas lately?"

Sam shook his head. "No. You?"

"Nothing. Son of a bitch disappears and we don't hear squat from him for god knows how long," Dean grumbled.

"He'll show up. He always does."

Dean's phone started to ring. "Hello?" he paused to listen. "Where?" he said with a stony glare. "We'll be there soon," he sighed and hung up. "Sam, we gotta go."

Sam looked confused. "Where?"

"A place called Pikesville. They've had several suspicious disappearances in the last month. It's a twenty-two hour drive."

"Well that's good news. A job means no more being stuck around here. But what are we gonna do about Nicky?" he asked, obviously concerned about my condition.

Dean sighed and took a moment to think. "Well since Cas hasn't been answering our calls as of lately, I guess we're gonna take her with us. Injuries and all. I hate to drag her around the way she is right now, but I don't want to leave her here alone without one of us to protect her if something goes horribly wrong down here. And I don't necessarily want to do this job alone. Heaven knows I'm gonna need you, Sammy."

Sam nodded. "Okay, we'll just have to be careful with her. I don't want to hurt her more."

Dean nodded, "Want me to grab you a bag?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll toss hers in the trunk and get her to the car."

Dean nodded and went to pack the bags. Sam grabbed my bags from beside the chair and slung them over his shoulder. "I don't want you putting too much weight on that ankle for now. Let me help you to the car," he smiled softly.

I half smiled back and let him help me out to the Impala. The heat of the leather from the warm April sun soaked through my jeans. This really was a gorgeous car. When Sam was finally satisfied that I was comfortable and that the pain had settled some, he smiled and went back inside to help his brother.

Fifteen minutes later, we were on the road. As the roads began to look extremely familiar, Sam turned around and looked at me from the passenger seat. "Hey," he said. "It's gonna be okay. You're away from that dick for good now. We're going to get the rest of your stuff and then we'll hit the road," he smiled. "You don't have to go in if you don't want to. Dean and I can go get everything and deal with the asshole."

"No, I want to go in," I said. "I know what's mine and what's not. Not that I don't trust you to get everything, I just don't trust Spencer not to hide my stuff."

The brothers both looked concerned, but relented. "We'll hold off this Spencer dude while you gather what you need," Dean said.

Soon we were sitting in the parking lot across from Spencer's apartment. I took a deep breath and got out of the car. Sam was quickly at my side, arm around my waist to keep me from falling. God, he was so much taller than me. As a matter of fact, so was Dean. Damn. I was just short…

We walked up the four flights of stairs and were soon standing in front of the door to my own personal hell. I pulled my key out of my purse and turned it in the lock. I took a deep breath and walked in.

Inside, Spencer was sitting on the couch drinking what looked to be his fifth beer. Shit. That meant he was starting to get drunk and he'd be really angry when he saw me.

We'd hardly entered the apartment when he turned around and saw us. He took in the two tall men standing in the doorway and locked eyes on me. He smiled and came quickly over to me.

"Nicky! You're home! I missed you so much!" He kissed me hard and hugged me so tight I thought my ribs would snap. "God, you look like hell! What happened?" He put me down and started to pull me over to the couch, but I recoiled. His face registered shock, rejection and anger. I was in for it now.

"I'm not _home_ , Spencer. I'm here to get my stuff and then I'm leaving."

"Nichole, baby, why would you do that?" he asked, looking as if I was taking a knife and slowly driving it into his heart and twisting it to maximize the pain.

"Because I'm done with you," I said softly as I looked away.

He grabbed my face and roughly turned me to face him. "You what?" he growled.

Sam and Dean took this as their invitation to step in. "Let her go," Dean demanded. "She doesn't want you to touch her, dick."

"Who the fuck are you and why do you care what I do to her?" Spencer said through blazing eyes.

"I'm the guy who's gonna kick your ass if you touch her again." Dean's eyes, as green as his brother's, were locked onto Spencer. Sam's were two points of fire directed at him as well.

"Oh yeah? So what if I do this?" he snarled and backhanded me across the face.

His blow nearly sent me to the floor, but Sam ran up and caught me before I hit the ground. Simultaneously, Dean had crossed the room and twisted Spencer's arm behind him.

"You're nothing but a drunken douche bag. I'm surprised she stayed with you this long. What do you have to offer her? I bet she did everything around here. Cleaning, cooking, taking care of your drunk ass."

Dean continued to give Spencer a good tongue lashing while Sam and I scrambled around the house looking for all of my stuff. I grabbed the rest of my stuff from the bedroom and connected bathroom. I sent Sam into the other rooms to collect all the pictures and all of my craft supplies. We stuffed everything into my other duffle bag and as soon as I'd done a quick sweep of the apartment, I was ready to leave.

Dean seemed to have a good grip on Spencer. I considered giving him a good kick in the jules, or slap to the face, but I decided it wasn't worth it to stoop to his level. Dean released Spencer and took the bag from me.

We'd made it almost to the stairs when Sam suddenly stopped. He handed the bag he was carrying to Dean and walked back to Spencer. "One more thing," he said. Then he did something I'd never seen him do to anyone, but was going to see a lot more of in the future. He punched Spence in the face. Spencer fell to the living room floor—down for the count. Sam shut the door and walked back over to us, took the bag from Dean and headed down the stairs. I stood there in shock for a moment and then followed him as best I could.

After we'd packed my bags into the car, we took off.

We drove in relative silence for several hours. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either.

The sun was falling past the horizon as we rolled through a small town. I missed the name so I didn't know where we were. I was just glad to be away from Spencer. Dean pulled the Impala into the lot of a motel and paid for one night in a room with two double beds.

It wasn't the nicest room I'd ever stayed in, but it was great for a motel. It wasn't extremely dirty or nasty smelling. I had a feeling this was going to be a staple in our trip, so I had to get used to it. Dean had brought all three of our bags into the room and set them on the coffee table by the dingy couch.

I finally broke the silence. I walked over to Dean and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Thank you for everything today."

He cautiously hugged me back. When I looked at him, he gave an awkward smile. "No problem, Nichole."

I smiled back and walked over to Sam. "Sammy," I said softly as I laid my hand on his arm. "What you did back there—"

He pulled away. "I shouldn't have done that," he chastised.

My eyes filled with tears as I wrapped my arms around him. "Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you, Sammy. Whether you should've knocked him out doesn't even matter. I'm extremely grateful that you did it."

He wrapped his arms tightly around me as well. "I just didn't want him to come after us and push you down the stairs again. I was terrified for your safety."

I pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. "I'm safe now because of you two."

"Okay, that's enough hallmark moments for the night. I think I'm gonna puke," Dean chided.

I laughed and let go of Sam.

"I'm starving. Let's go find a burger joint," Dean suggested.

Sam and I both laughed and agreed that food sounded good. We drove a couple miles to a small, locally owned bar. I hesitated, but I walked in when I felt Sam's hand on my lower back, reassuring me that it was okay.

Dean found us a secluded table in the back and let me have the seat in the corner. "How'd you know I'd want the corner seat?" I asked, surprised.

"Sam told me once how you would rather be able to see the whole room than have your back to the unknown," he smiled.

I grinned at Sam. "You remembered that tiny detail about me?"

He laughed nervously. "Yeah, I mean, I totally get it, especially after living with Spencer as long as you did."

I laid a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Sam."

He smiled back and pulled out my chair for me. A waitress in a low cut top and short skirt came and took our orders. Dean, of course, tried to flirt with her but she shut him down. Sam and I exchanged smirks. In the end, he decided he'd have a burger and a beer. Sammy and I both decided something light sounded good. We both ordered BLTs, Sam's with a beer, and mine with a water. I had little interest in drinking tonight.

Since it had been a long day, we didn't stay long after we finished our meal and went straight back to the motel. I sat down on one of the beds to put my ankle up, wincing a bit as I did so. My head was pounding and I was beginning to see doubles. I reached into my purse, popped a couple acetaminophen tabs, and chased them with a sip of water. Sam and Dean stayed close to the door obviously concerned about me.

Dean sighed. "We could try and call Cas. He could patch her up."

"It's worth a shot."

"Um, who is this Cas and what does that have to do with me?" I asked.

Before I received an answer, Dean started saying what I thought was a mock prayer. "Now I lay me down to rest. I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here and help out Sammy's friend so we can get on the road and kick some ass."

I looked at Dean with confusion. But before I had time to even say anything, all of a sudden there was a man in a trench coat standing in the room. I recoiled in shock.

Sam came over to me and took my face gently in his hands. "Take it easy, Nicky. He's not going to hurt you. I promise," he said softly. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, something he'd done since high school, and looked over at this person, or thing rather, they called Castiel. "Cas, help her."

"What happened? She looks awful," Cas said turning to Dean.

I stared at this Castiel with an expression of insult mixed with astonishment. "Well you don't look so great yourself. Who the hell are you? _What_ are you?" Dean just laughed.

Castiel made his way toward me. "I am Castiel. And I'm an angel of the Lord. But you may call me Cas, as these two morons do." he said with sincerity. "Morons" seemed to be a term of endearment for the brothers.

I looked nervously over at Sam who'd retreated to stand with his brother, who was still snickering. He must have registered my anxiety and distrust, and in just a few short steps, he had crossed the distance between us and gently took my hand. "Nicky, you can trust him. He really is an angel. A bit of a dick at times, but he means well."

"What happened to her?" Cas asked.

"I fell down the stairs," I lied again, hoping against hope that Cas couldn't see right through me.

He obviously could because he looked over to Sam for an explanation.

Sam sighed. "Her boyfriend beat the hell out of her because she and I were alone in their apartment doing a project for her class. He kicked me out, and then I get this text from her saying to come back and get her because he was being violent again. So I turned around, went in and got her out of there. But he followed us to the hall and shoved her down the stairs before I could get between them. She hit her head a few times and sprained her ankle."

Cas sighed. "Now, was that so hard?" he asked me.

I glared at Cas and squeezed Sam's hand. He moved so he could be closer to me and ease my anxiety.

"This isn't going to hurt. I promise," Cas said.

This Castiel laid his hand on my ankle and immediately the pain, swelling, and bruising were gone. "Stand up," he said sternly.

I did as I was told and was amazed to find that my ankle was completely healed. I could walk and put weight on it without pain. I looked at Sam in amazement.

He laid a hand on my head, and the headache I'd been dealing with since this morning subsided. "The concussion should be gone, but I would advise you to wake her up every few hours tonight just to make sure she'll wake up." He turned to Dean. "Now, if you don't mind, I have business to attend to."

I was about to thank Cas, but I realized he'd disappeared again.

"Dick," Dean grumbled.

"At least he answered," Sam pointed out.

Dean sighed, "You're right. I'm gonna shower and hit the sack. We've got a long drive tomorrow." Grabbing his bag, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door leaving Sam and I alone in the room.

"Sammy—" I started to say, but was cut off by a finger to the lips.

"Shhh, you've had a really crappy day, Nick. You should get some sleep," he whispered. He laid his hand on my cheek and kissed my forehead for the second time today. I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his hand envelop me. Being this close to Sam made me want to close the gap between us and kiss him. _Why was I having these feelings all of a sudden? Was it because I was now officially single? Was it because he'd saved me and I'd fallen for my rescuer? Or could I truly have feelings for my best friend?_ I let him run his fingers through my hair and I began to relax.

We stayed like that until Dean's voice killed the moment. "What did I say about hallmark moments, you two?"

Sam rolled his eyes and removed his hand from my face. "Dean, you can really be an ass."

"Just doing my job," Dean winked. "I'm taking this bed. As much as I would fancy sleeping with a pretty girl, I don't think you share the same thoughts. That and Sammy would probably kill me. And I sure as hell don't want to sleep with my brother. He gets handsy in his sleep," he teased.

Sam just gave him a look that said shut up. He looked back at me and asked, "You can have this bed and I'll sleep on the couch. I just want you to be comfortable."

"Sammy, you don't have to sleep on that couch. It's super lumpy and dingy."

He smiled at me. "I'll wake you up in a few hours. Try and get some sleep."

"I'll try." He started over to the couch. "Sam?"

He turned back to face me.

"Thank you."

He smiled and hunkered down on the couch. I laid back and closed my eyes, willing sleep to come. I knew I was safe with these two, but I was still filled with anxiety and fear from today's events. I just wished Sam would've stayed close to me until I fell asleep. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

_It was midnight. I was standing alone trying to get a taxi to get home. I knew Spencer would be livid if I came home late. I kept trying to hail a taxi, but they all just drove by without a second glance._ Shit.

 _I started walking in the dark, one of my least favorite things. I hated being alone. I'd walked for about five minutes when I sensed someone behind me. When I looked, there was no one there. I quickened my pace. I felt the presence again and looked back. Again, there was no one there. It started to drizzle._ Dammit!

 _I started to get really uneasy. I stepped up my pace again and kept going, praying that no one was after me and I was just paranoid. I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks. Spencer was standing there, but he didn't look right. And why was he here?_

 _He took a menacing step toward me and I ran. I tried going back around the corner, but he was there, too. How was that possible? He hadn't passed me, and there's no possible way that he could've gotten around the corner before me. I subconsciously knew there was nowhere for me to go that he wouldn't already be._ Fuck! _I just stood still, frozen in fear._

 _Why did he look so strange? Was he bigger? Smaller? Fatter? He came right up to me and said, "There you are, darling. I've been looking for you." His smile was wicked._

 _"Spencer? What are you doing here?"_

 _He put a hand on my face. "I was worried about you. You weren't home yet so I figured I'd come find you."_

 _His voice sounded different. Deeper, raspier somehow. What had he been doing?_

 _I made a mistake then and allowed myself one look into his eyes. They were red. Not just red like allergy red, but crimson red._ What the hell? _He smiled at me and I knew I was in trouble. He had a mouth full of sharp teeth._

 _I screamed and he smiled all the more. I kept screaming as he leaned in to bite my jugular and end my life. I felt a sharp pain and tried to scream but everything went black._

Suddenly, I was back in the motel room being shaken. I tried to fight off my attacker. I flailed and smacked and kicked as best I could. But then another one grabbed hold of my legs and the other my arms so I couldn't move. I tried to scream. But was silenced by a soft voice.

"Nichole, Nicky, Nicky. You're okay! You're okay. You're safe. Breathe Nicky."

It wasn't a threatening voice, so I stopped struggling as hard. Then another voice said, "It was just a nightmare. You're alright. Nothing's coming for you."

The voices sounded familiar. As I shook off the last effects of sleep, I realized it was the Winchester brothers. I'd had a nightmare and apparently been talking, screaming, and fighting in my sleep. They were just trying to calm me down. Dean held my legs while Sam held my arms and kept talking to me in a soft voice.

Gradually, I calmed down and was able to make sense of what had happened. I was lying in a motel bed with the two people I felt safest with. I was going to be okay. Dean released my legs and Sam my arms. I sat up and started shaking. Sam pulled me into his chest and wrapped me in his strong and warm embrace. "You're okay. I promise," he whispered.

"So much for waking her up in a few hours," said Dean, sounding concerned.

I looked over Sam's shoulder at him. "What do you mean? It's really late at night. Isn't it?"

Dean shook his head. "It's only been about an hour." He looked at his brother. "Well, we know how she wakes up now. At least from nightmares," he joked.

I had stopped trembling, but still allowed Sam to hold me. Dean went back to bed and Sam stayed up with me for a while to ensure I was comfortable going back to sleep. When he was satisfied I was alright, he started back toward the couch.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

I hesitated for a moment. "I—I'm not…comfortable…sleeping alone…" I stared down at my hands.

He smiled. "Are you saying you want me to sleep with you?"

"Yeah. Wait, no! Well—I guess? But not in a sexual way. I just mean—"

He chuckled. "I know what you mean Nicky. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that. It's just cute to watch you stumble over yourself like that."

I flipped him off as he made his way to the other side of the bed, snickering all the while. He lay facing me and I moved closer to him. I was scared and he was my best friend. He always knew how to make me feel safe. I never had to worry about upsetting him since he was such an easygoing person.

He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against his chest. I allowed him to run his fingers through my hair. "Everything's gonna be okay, Nick. I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered. He kissed my forehead and I let his hands glide over my face, back and sides. Slowly, I drifted off to dreams of my best friend, the beach and true happiness.

True to the Cas' and the doctor's orders, he woke me up every few hours to make sure I was alright. Each time he would place a tender kiss on my forehead and talk to me until I fell asleep again.

Morning came too soon. Waking up had always been my least favorite thing. I was a light sleeper, but when I actually slept, I slept hard. I had woken up to Spencer on top of me many mornings doing unspeakable things to me while I slept. I guess what he'd been doing could be construed as rape. I didn't consent to it and I sure as hell didn't want him to do it. However, this morning wasn't anything like that. I mean, I woke up to a man, but this man wasn't Spencer.

I opened my eyes to find Sam's gorgeous green eyes watching me. He gave me one those cute smiles as I slowly came to reality. "Welcome to the land of the living," he chided quietly.

I groaned, stretched and rolled over. I didn't want to start the day. I wanted to stay in bed and sleep. Sam wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Despite not sleeping more than three hours at a time, I had slept better here with the Winchester's than I ever had while living with Spence.

Dean was already up and dressed. "Rise and shine you two. We've still got at least fifteen hours on the road today. So let's hit it and see how far we can make it before sunset."

I sat up and looked at Dean. "I'm showering before we hit the road."

"Go for it. We'll wait."

I slowly climbed out of bed, grabbed my bag, and locked the bathroom door behind me.

The hot water felt amazing. Spencer had always gotten in the shower before me and used up the majority of the hot water. As much as I wanted to stay in the shower and let the hot water fall on my skin, I knew we had to get going. I quickly finished my shower and stepped out. I took a few moments to examine myself in front of the mirror. I was much thinner than I had been in high school and I knew why. Spencer always thought I needed to lose a couple pounds so I didn't eat nearly as much and worked out constantly. Looking at myself now, though, I realized how far things had actually gone. I was actually bordering on _too_ thin. My hip bones jutted out and I could actually see a few of my ribs. My shoulder blades and my collar bone were very prominent. I sighed and threw on a pair of jeans and an old band tee. I felt a lot better now that I had on clean clothes and had a decent night's sleep for once.

I looked like a drowned rat, but I didn't care. Cas had done more than just heal my ankle and my concussion. He'd healed the cuts and bruises as well. I barely recognized this girl in the mirror. Nothing left of the past cuts and bruises remained. No discoloration, but there were still faint scars in a few places. These were old scars from when Spencer and I had moved in together. My face was still gaunt and my eyes were still rimmed with dark circles, but nothing a few good nights couldn't fix.

I ran a brush through my hair, put all my stuff back in my bag, and walked out of the bathroom. Dean was packing everything back into his duffle bag and Sam was sipping coffee, reading a local newspaper. Dean noticed me first. "Feel better?" he asked.

"Much," I replied. He held his hand out and I handed him my bag. I thanked him and he took the bags out to the Impala.

Sam looked at me over his paper. I walked over to the door and grabbed my shoes—a pair black converse—and sat down beside him. "Ready to hit the road?" he asked.

I nodded and reached for his coffee. He moved it just out of reach and smirked. I pursed my lips and gave him a mock scowl. I tried to reach for it a second time, but again he moved it out of reach. I couldn't help but laugh. "What? Are you afraid to share with me now Sammy? You share a bed with me last night but now you won't share your coffee?"

"Nope," he smiled. He stood up and raised the coffee cup to his lips. I finished putting on my shoes, got up, and gave him my puppy eyes—something that had always been our little inside joke. "Not gonna work on me, Nicks. You know this."

"Sam Winchester! You're a big bag of dicks," I laughed reaching for the cup again. I managed to tangle my legs around him and would've fallen if he hadn't wrapped his arm around my waist. Our close contact had me feeling butterflies. What the hell was up with me lately?

"Ouch, that hurt," he jokingly scolded.

"All I want is one sip. Just one." I gave him my most innocent look.

He laughed and finally relented. I took the warm coffee in my hands and took a drink without breaking eye contact with him. God, I could lose myself in his eyes. His gaze didn't feel threatening like Spencer's did. I was perfectly comfortable holding eye contact with Sam.

"Seriously guys?!" We turned and saw Dean in the doorway. "I leave you alone together for five minutes and you've got yourselves tangled around each other."

"We were, uh…. Practicing our tango!" I joked. Playing along, Sam spun me around and dipped me overdramatically. We all burst out laughing.

"Let's go before you decide you want to learn to salsa, too," Dean said as he struck a pose.

We laughed and followed Dean out to the car.


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm hungry. Let's get some breakfast," Dean said loudly, jolting me awake. I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep. "Mornin' Sleeping Beauty!" Dean exclaimed in a mock country accent.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"About an hour and a half," Sam said.

"You're a buzzkill in the car!" Dean teased. I flipped him off and repositioned myself. "Well if you insist!" he said as he started to pull the car to the shoulder.

"No! Keep driving you dick!" I exclaimed. "That's not what I meant!" The boys laughed and we continued down the road. "You guy's suck," I giggled.

We stopped in the next town at a small diner. The waitress sat us in a booth in the middle of a row of them by the window. The sun was shining and made for a beautiful morning. Dean let me have the seat closest to the window and slid in next to me. Sammy sat across from me. In the bright morning sunlight, his eyes looked so much brighter. The tall, lean, muscular Winchester looked at me with one of the softest expressions I'd ever received. I couldn't help but blush a little as I hid my face behind my menu. I heard him chuckle as he looked his over.

The waitress came back and took down our orders. I went simple and decided on a strawberry parfait and coffee. Sam said he wanted pancakes with coffee, and Dean chose the breakfast platter that included bacon, eggs, sausage, a whole host of other food and coffee as well. I asked the waitress if she would leave the pen. She looked at me as if I had three heads, but she left it.

Both Sam and Dean looked at me strangely, but Sam caught on quickly. I was a nervous doodler, meaning I draw when I'm nervous. I flipped over my placemat and started drawing. The thing was, I didn't realize what I was drawing until I heard Dean gasp. I stopped drawing and looked at him.

"Why would you choose to draw that?" He pointed to the small, quick sketch I had done in the corner.

"I don't know," I answered. But as I looked at it more closely, I realized that I had drawn how Spencer had looked in my dream last night. "That nightmare I had last night. This was what I saw. It's Spencer."

Sam took a closer look at the sketch as well. "That's not Spencer, Nick. That's a vamp."

"A vamp?" I asked, incredulous.

"A vampire," Dean whispered. "Nasty sons of bitches."

"Wait, so you're saying Dracula was in my dream then?"

"No, no that kind of vamp.

"Are we talking, like, _Twilight_ kind of vampires? They're real? And not just some…story book monsters?"

"Yeah they're real, and not exactly _Twilight,_ but they're closer to those than Dracula," Sam answered. "These things can rip you to shreds in seconds, but can also turn you in the same amount of time. The only ways to kill them are decapitation or getting close enough to inject them with dead man's blood."

I tore that corner away, disgusted with myself for even drawing it in the first place.

I started doodling again. The waitress had brought us our coffee by then but I didn't touch mine at first. I was too busy doodling. By the time our food arrived, I had sketched both Sam and Dean from the waist up. They looked impressed.

"Damn! That's good!" I guess Dean didn't see many pen sketches. This wasn't even close to my best.

Sam just smiled like a proud mother. He'd seen my notebooks. The margins were full of doodles and sketches. "She's pretty good."

We dug into our breakfasts and left the waitress a decent tip. Dean grabbed my placemat and took it with him.

When we got to the Impala, he stuck it in the glove compartment. "For safe keeping," he winked.

At this point, it was nearing ten in the morning. We still had at least thirteen hours left before we arrived at Pikesville. If we drove straight through we'd get there by around eleven tonight. I highly doubted we would go straight through, seeing how Dean liked his food. Plus one of us was bound to need a bathroom break at some point.

We spent the next three hours telling stories about each other. Sam would tell a story about Dean, Dean would pretend to be offended and try to embarrass Sam, and Sam would in turn try to embarrass me. "Remember when you got ghost sickness and were afraid of a cat? Oh and weren't you running from a Yorkie?" Sam teased.

"Hey! That bitch was vicious! And the cat could've had rabies! What about that time you lost the rabbit's foot! You lost your shoe in the sewer!" Dean countered.

"There was gum on my shoe! Here's one," he said giving me a playful look. "That time when we went to the park."

"Which one?" I asked

"When you decided you were gonna climb that tree. You got half way up and the one you were holding onto snapped. I had to catch you so you wouldn't hurt yourself!"

"Oh, damn. Yeah I remember that. I was like 17! Then there's that time you and I got stuck out in the rain because it was _your_ brilliant idea to take a walk on an intensely cloudy day. You were being a doof, skipping around and didn't see where the concrete was raised and fell on your ass in a puddle!"

I was having a great time—until my phone rang. The three of us became dead silent. Sam looked worried since I'd spent the last ten seconds staring at the caller ID. It stopped ringing finally, but not fifteen seconds later it was ringing again. Sam held out his hand and I handed it to him. He didn't even have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

"Leave her alone," he demanded. A look of surprise crossed his face and he swore under his breath. "Yes, she's with me." He listened some more. "No, I refuse to bring her back to him." He paused again. "You can send out all the search parties you want. But my brother and I fully intend to protect her against anyone who tries to take her." Sam sighed. "They want to talk to you," he said to me.

"Who?"

"The cops."

My jaw dropped in disbelief. I took my phone back from Sam. "Um, hello?"

"Nichole Philips?" asked a deep, husky voice.

"Yes?"

"This is Sergeant James Collin with the Mauston PD. We're calling from Spencer Danforth's cell phone. Can you tell me where you're at?"

"Um, why is that relevant?" I asked.

"Mr. Danforth put out a missing person's report for a Ms. Philips."

"He can't do that!" I exclaimed. The Winchesters made a quick glance at me. I lowered my voice a bit and said, "Number one, it hasn't been forty-eight hours and two, I'm not missing. He's just pissed because I left his drunken ass."

"Ms. Philips, Danforth has a large contusion on his cheekbone. Are you aware of this? He says a tall man named Sam put a gun to his head and knocked him out with a single punch. Do you know anything about this?"

I made eye contact with Sam who looked extremely confused. "No," I lied. "Look officer, I don't want any trouble. I'm safe and with people I trust. I do not plan to come back to Spencer's apartment. I took all of my stuff and moved out. As far as Spencer is concerned, I don't know him. Please stop trying to find me. You technically did so I am no longer a 'missing person.'"

"I understand ma'am. Thank you for your time."

I hung up and took a deep breath. "What the hell was that all about?" Dean asked.

"The asshat put out a missing person's report for me. He told the police a tall man named Sam held a gun to his head and punched his lights out. Asked if I knew anything about it. I told him I didn't." I looked at Sam who looked troubled.

"You pulled a gun on that guy, Sam? Are you nuts? Nichole, you said that with so much sincerity that it's scary," Dean remarked.

"Yeah, that's something else I'm not proud of. Living with a drunken asshole kind of forces you to be a good liar."

"Hand me your phone," Sam said as he held out his hand. "I'm blocking his number so he can't call or text you. I'm also putting in a few numbers that you're going to need."

"Like who?" I asked.

"Dean, for one. The others I'll explain as we go along." He handed me my phone back and I stuck it in my purse.

"I'm tired of driving silence," Dean grumbled, flipping on the radio. Sam sighed and reached to change the station. Dean smacked his hand and said, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

I couldn't help but laugh. That was an expression I'd never heard before. The radio played at a volume loud enough to hear the music, but soft enough we could hear each other speak.

I sat in silence and listened to the boys banter back and forth for a while. It was crazy how I felt so safe with them. I mean, yeah, I had known Sam since my junior year of high school, but Dean I didn't know so well. I'd met Sam in a bar down the street from where I lived at the time. Some drunk man had tried to make a move on me and made advances I was not about to let him have. Sam had seen this happening and come to rescue me. He had pretended that I was his girlfriend and even though I didn't know him, I went along with it. The man had quickly stepped off, seeing as Sam was much taller than he was. I'd thanked him and asked for his name. We sat and talked in that bar late into the night. We hit it off and exchanged numbers. We stayed in touch even after I'd moved away.

My senior year of high school is when I met Spencer. I was the typical nerdy girl with few friends and he was the athletic jock that had all the friends in the world. We had the same math class and he had no clue what he was doing. He asked me to tutor him and three weeks later, we were dating. We stayed together through Christmas break and graduation. The day after graduation was when he asked me to move in with him. He'd been living on his own since he was eighteen. We lived together for nearly two years. Spence didn't become violent until I came home late one night from a study session. He was convinced I was cheating on him and slapped me. Things just escalated from there. If I refused to have sex with him, he'd lock me in the spare room with only a light blanket. I'd spend an uncomfortable and sleepless night in there. I never consented to all the awful things he did to me while I slept.

I'd kept in contact with Sam all this time. I didn't tell him the first few times Spencer hit me. But as the blows became harder, and the bruises began to show, he started asking questions. We'd been at our favorite coffee shop hanging out and working on my homework. I'd worn a turtle neck that day even though it was close to seventy-five degrees outside. Sam initially had asked about that, but I managed to play it off with my "I'm cold-blooded," excuse. I had reached down to grab a book out of my backpack and my sweater rode up my back a little. Sam had noticed the discoloration and asked me about it. I tried to cover it up and tell him it was nothing, but he saw right through me. He helped me pack up my stuff and load it into the Impala. We drove to a secluded area near the lake where we liked to spend time once in awhile. We got out and sat on the hood. He'd asked me what really happened and looked at the bruise in all its colorful glory. I had no choice but to tell him what was going on. He'd not been happy that I kept returning to that apartment, but he never left my side or gave up on me. He always covered for me if we went somewhere and was always a gentleman.

Reminiscing about Sam and I and listening to the boys banter lulled me into a light sleep. I guess on a subconscious level, I knew we were still moving and so my body didn't shut down as it would if I were to actually fall asleep.

We stopped for food around noon and dinner around six thirty. We'd traveled eight of our fifteen hours and still had a little sunlight left before dusk.

We rolled into Pikesville around midnight and found a small motel on the edge of town. Sam and I went inside the little lobby and paid for a room for a few nights while Dean parked the car. This room wasn't nearly as nice as the last one, but it still wasn't terrible. It wasn't too skeevy; at least it was clean. I sat my bag on one of the double beds and leaned back. _Hot damn it feels good to lie down._ I sat up and rummaged through my bag looking for a pair of shorts. When I found a pair, I took them to the bathroom to change.

As soon as I came out, Dean was sprawled across the other double bed. "'Bout damn time you get out of there!"

"I was barely in there for two minutes."

He smirked and made his way to the bathroom, hip checking me as he passed and fake gasped as he grabbed his hip. "Damn girl! You've got some bony hips there!" I laughed and punched his arm playfully.

Sam had set up camp on the couch. "You know, you don't have to sleep there. There's a whole other half of a bed here," I said, pointing toward the bed I planned to sleep on.

"You sure? I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to make a move on you."

I giggled. "I'm not worried about you Sammy. I know you wouldn't do that so soon after a breakup." I walked over to him and stood on my tiptoes so I could wrap my arms around his neck.

In return, he scooped me up bridal style and carried me over to the bed. I laughed and I knew he couldn't help but smile. He laid me gently on one side and he took the other. Dean exited the bathroom and within minutes was passed out on the other bed.

After we'd made ourselves comfortable, lying face to face and his arms enveloping me in his warm embrace, Sam asked, "Nicky?"

"Hmmm?"

"What did you ever see in that guy?"

I thought about that for a moment. "I really don't know. I suppose it was from spending all that time tutoring him in calculus. He started to flirt, I flirted back, and three weeks later we were together and nearly inseparable."

Sam sighed deeply. "I wish you would've told me sooner. I always hated that you went back to him every time he hurt you. I was scared for you, Nicky." His eyes started to glisten. "After you told me the first time, I wanted nothing more than to go and bash his head in. But you told me things were just rocky and he didn't mean it. I stupidly believed that things really would straighten out. When you texted me to come get you this last time, I was fully prepared to end all of this for good. When I pulled him off you, I was ready to put a bullet between his eyes." A few stray tears escaped his grassy green eyes. I reached my hand up and gently wiped them away. My own eyes were beginning to well with tears. "It took all I had not to shoot him."

"Sammy, you've always been my best friend and I know I've scared you multiple times. I know you were worried about my safety and I'm glad you stuck around this long to be the one who saved me from Spencer. I'm glad you didn't put a bullet in his head because then that would've caused more problems than it would solve. I always knew you would be my safe haven. I could always run to you when I was scared." We both were openly sobbing quietly.

We lay there like that, foreheads pressed together, tears streaming down our faces and holding each other for a while. Sam composed himself before me and tenderly wiped away the stray tears left on my face. When I had composed myself, he laid a hand on my face. "I'm not going anywhere, Nicky. You're stuck with me. Always," he whispered.

I smiled. "You're stuck with me too, Sammy."

"Promise?" he teased.

I laughed quietly and held out my pinky, another one of our insiders. "Pinky promise." I said. He locked his pinky with mine and I added, "Always."

We both kissed our hands with our pinkies locked together, sealing our promise with a kiss. I fell asleep to the sight of his sleepy expression. An expression so soft that I couldn't help wanting to kiss him again. I was too tired at this point to act on anything, but the feeling of him next to me and his embrace lulled me into my first deep sleep in months.


	5. Chapter 5

This was the first night in a long time that I had slept and not woke up in the middle of the night. I awoke to sunlight streaming in the windows. I couldn't help but smile at the sleeping Winchester beside me. He looked so sweet and vulnerable. It was hard to imagine either of the Winchesters being vulnerable. Hell, I'd be scared of them if I met them in a dark alley in the middle of the night. A lock of his shaggy, brown, sleep tousled hair had fallen onto his face sometime while he slept. I smiled to myself and gently brushed it out of his face.

Sam began to stir. He opened those beautiful eyes and grinned at me. "Good morning beautiful," he said, his voice still gruff with sleep.

"Hey," I whispered back.

"Dean awake?"

I looked over his shoulder to the other bed, but the oldest Winchester wasn't there. I glanced toward the bathroom door, which stood open. "He's not here," I said.

"What?" He turned around and did a survey of the room. "Is the Impala gone?" He quickly got up and peered out the window. "Yep," he sighed.

I pushed myself up on my elbows. "What's going on Sammy?"

Sam turned around and noticed a small piece of paper taped to the door. He pulled it off and read it aloud: "Sam and Nicky, went to grab breakfast. Back soon. Dean. P.S. No hanky panky while I'm gone." Sam crumpled it up as I giggled.

"What does he think we're going to do?" I asked. "It's not like we'd have much time for anything. He could be back any minute!"

"You're such a tease," he laughed.

"Am not!"

Sam was about to reply, but his phone rang. "It's Dean," he said rolling his eyes. "Yeah? Yes we're awake." He paused. "No we're not doing anything. Where are you?" Sam listened to his older brother explain himself. "Alright. See you when you get back. Jerk." He hung up and turned to me. "He went on a breakfast run. We're hitting the job today. Do you have a suit you could wear?"

I looked at him as if he'd just sprouted a second head. "No. I never had a reason to own something like that. Spencer hated when I got dressed up. He said I was being a whore and trying to get another guy's attention."

"Well, when Dean gets back, we're going shopping. We're talking to the local police today."

I never knew what the Winchesters did. I mean, I knew they went hunting, but little did I know they hunted the things that go bump in the night.

"Go shower and when Dean gets back, we'll see if we can find a couple places where we can get you a suit or dress," he smiled.

I made my way to the bathroom and managed to take a quick shower before Dean walked in the door. There wasn't much by way of breakfast. Dean had brought me a small strawberry parfait and a coffee. I smiled gratefully at him; he'd remembered a small detail. Maybe he was more like Sam than he seemed.

"Nichole doesn't have a dress or suit to wear for our meeting today," Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Guess we'll have to find her something then," Dean grinned. "I saw a shop up town. We can stop there before heading over."

"Did you get her the badge?"

I looked at the brothers with confusion. _Badge? What badge?_

Dean nodded. "Sitting with ours." Dean read my expression and snickered. "Yes, what we're doing is extremely illegal. But it comes with the job."

"Don't worry. We've found ways to make it work," Sam added.

I trusted these boys, but I was still extremely nervous. Illegal? Was I ready for something like this?

We finished breakfast and took off toward town. The shop Dean had seen on his breakfast run was called Simply Wonders. It was like the rest of the town: small, dingy, and musty. After trying a few different options, I left the store with an off-white, v-neck, a pair of black slacks, and some black pumps. We made a quick stop at the motel so that we could all change. The boys gave me the bathroom so I could do my makeup and hair if I needed to. I ended up putting on just a little makeup and curling the ends of my hair.

When I stepped out, I had to do a double take. Were these really the same guys I'd traveled with? Before they'd looked like the rugged, bad boy next door kinda guys. Now, holy moly! Dean cleaned up well! And Sam? Oh my God! I couldn't help swooning over them both. They looked so handsome. They seemed as equally impressed with me.

"Who let the sexy business woman out of the cubicle?" Dean drooled.

Sam glowered at his brother. He turned back to me and swept his eyes over my body. I got that silly, girl with a crush butterfly feeling in my stomach. "Wow, Nicky. You look good!"

"Thanks guys," I blushed.

We made our way to the car and Sam opened the door for me. We made eye contact and grinned at each other.

We arrived at the police station about 10:30. No sooner had I stepped out of the car than Dean handed me an official looking badge. I opened it and saw my picture and credentials on it. "You weren't kidding about this being illegal," I muttered.

"All we want to find out is if there was anything strange about the disappearances. We ask the basics like what happened, did anyone see anything, can you describe the scene, and such. We're just trying to come up with some kind of parameters for this case," Dean informed me.

"Oooo, 'parameters.' That's a big word Dean," I teased.

The police station wasn't large. It was the perfect size for such a small town like Pikesville. There were maybe five desks, each outfitted with a computer, drawers, and a phone. Files and papers littered the majority as well as a few personal items.

We flashed our badges to the chief of police and Dean introduced us. "I'm Detective Jones, this is my partner Johnson, and our intern, Stafford. She's getting some field experience today," Dean said extremely convincingly.

The chief looked me up and down, making me feel uncomfortable, but I didn't show it. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Well," Dean said. "You could start off by telling us what exactly happened."

"To be honest, I have no idea what's happening. All I know is I've gotten several phone calls about people who are going missing. So far, eight are gone and only three of them have turned up again."

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"Well, those who turned back up don't seem to go out and do their usual activities. Mr. Ray always mowed his lawn on Saturdays. He hasn't touched it since he came back two weeks ago. The Jolsons haven't done anything at all lately. They came back after a week and haven't left the house since. Well, I shouldn't say that. I saw them at a bar the other night."

"Anything else?" I asked.

He looked me up and down again. I felt the same wave of insecurity pass over me, but still didn't allow it to show.

"Well, just the other morning I thought I saw one of my officers eyes change colors."

"What color?" Dean asked.

"It looked like her eyes had gone completely black. But it could've just been the light."

"Thank you for your time, sir." Sam stood up with his hand extended for the sheriff to shake.

As we walked out of the building, the sheriff followed us out the door. He grabbed my wrist and spun me around. "If you're ever looking to get away from those two and be with a real man, here's my card," he winked. He dropped my wrist and went back inside.

Dean, having seen this little exchange, backtracked and asked me what that was about.

"He gave me his card," I hesitated.

"Well, now we have a number to reach him at if we need more information."

"No, he said to use it if I wanted to get away from you guys and be with a real man." I suddenly felt disgusting.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the motel and talk about all this." He placed a hand on my lower back and led me to the car, something I doubt he would've done if the sheriff hadn't been watching from the window. "Look at that bozo staring out the window thinking we can't see him."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Son of a bitch made a move on Nick," Dean answered. "Let's get back to the motel. We've got some things to discuss."

After a moment of contemplation, Sam finally took his place in the passenger seat.

Back at the motel, we sat on the beds facing each other. "Alright, well it's obvious that the sheriff's a perv," Dean commented.

"No kidding. I feel like I need another shower," I shivered.

Sam said nothing.

"It's also pretty clear we've got a demon problem on our hands," Dean explained. "The black eyes are the first sign. The place smelled faintly of rotten eggs, which means there had to be sulfur somewhere. I'm willing to bet it was around that officer's desk. We need to go back there and take another look around."

Sam still sat like a stone. Dean and I both looked at him, perplexed.

"I'm gonna make a lunch run. Keep an eye on him would you?" Dean asked me.

I nodded. Dean walked out the door, locking it on his way out. The rumble of the Impala faded into the distance.

I turned to Sam. "You okay?"

He stayed silent. I swear I saw a look of fury pass across his face, but then his expression became unreadable.

"Sammy, talk to me," I pleaded. I laid a hand on his arm but he pulled away. I hadn't felt this rejected in a long time. Sam had never been one to pull away from me or shut himself off like this. I was angry and hurt. I stood up and locked myself in the bathroom.

That must've gotten his attention. I could hear him cross the room toward the door. He knocked softly. "Nick?"

I didn't answer. I was standing over the sink trying not to cry.

"Nicky, open the door."

I stayed still and ran my fingers through my hair.

I heard him start jiggling the handle. I took a deep breath and then unlocked the door. Sam stood on the other side looking calmer than when I'd locked myself in here. I walked passed him and sat on the bed.

"Nicky, I'm sorry."

Now it was my turn to be silent.

"When Dean told said the officer was hitting on you, I got so angry." He sat down next to me. "You're much younger than he is so naturally I was worried for your safety."

"You could've just said that instead of pouting and ignoring me," I growled.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I was scared for you, angry at the way he was looking at you, and a little—" he stopped short.

"What?"

He hesitated, debating on whether or not he wanted to tell me what was on his mind. "I guess…I guess I was a little jealous."

"Jealous?" I asked, incredulous. "Why would you be jealous of someone who's at least twice my age?"

"I guess," he started. "I don't know."

I took his face in my hands. "Sammy, you can tell me."

He placed his hands on mine. "That's a story for another time." He smiled softly. "Let's get some work done before Dean gets back." He stood up and held his hand out to me.

I cautiously took it. "What are we doing?"

"I'm gonna teach you how to fight."

"Wait, what?"

"If you're gonna stick around with us, it's pretty much essential that you defend yourself."

"I shouldn't have to," I laughed. "Not with two big hunters around."

Sam laughed. "Well, just in case you _do_ get separated from us for some reason, we're gonna show you a few things. Dean can help once he gets back. Actually, there's a lot we need to teach you. Not just about defending yourself, but also about what we do and the things that we deal with." His tone grew more serious. "Nicky," he took my hands and sat on one of the dining chairs. "This job, it's scary. I can't tell you how many things I've seen or how many times I've had the crap kicked out of me by things that children never even dream of. I just want to make sure you're prepared for anything. As long as I can help it, nothing's going to happen to you. I promise." He dropped my hand and held out his pinkie.

I grinned and locked my pinkie with his.

"As long as I'm around, you'll be safe." We sealed our promise with the pinkie kiss. "Alright, first things first, we teach you basic blocking and striking techniques."

For the next fifteen minutes, Sam showed me the basics of blocking punches and a couple different strikes. "Okay, now that you've got the blocking, I want you to block, and then strike me in the shoulder."

"Sam, I don't want to punch you," I backed off.

"You're not gonna hurt me Nicky. I've been through much worse. And something tells me you're not gonna hit me too hard anyway."

"Ouch! That smarts a little," I laughed.

"Okay, now, I'm gonna throw a half-hearted punch, and you're gonna block and strike. Ready?"

Sam took a swing toward my jaw. I threw my arm up to block my face, knocking his arm away and swung at his shoulder. I missed.

"Not bad for a first try. Do you know what you did wrong?"

I shook my head.

"You closed your eyes."

"I did not!"

"Yeah you did," he laughed.

I rolled my eyes. "I guess I'm just not quite sure about this whole defense thing…especially just becoming free of Spence."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Nicks. I promise," he smiled. "C'mon, let's go again." He swung at me again and this time I successfully blocked his strike and nailed him in the shoulder.

"That was a good one. Now, let's combine that with a kick. You gotta be ready Nick. I'm not gonna stop. I'm just gonna keep coming," he warned.

 _Shit, this could end badly._ I took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready." I squared up and waited for his first attack.

I missed several of the blocks and was struck a handful of times, which was nothing new. I could take a few hits. I did manage, however, to land a few solid strikes. Sam upped his attacks and started coming at me faster. Now I was starting to worry a little. He looked super intense coming at me and it scared me a bit. He landed a solid hit on my shoulder. I dodged the next strike that was coming for my jaw and socked him in the gut. He doubled over and came at my legs. I jumped over him and shoved him with my foot. He rolled forward and jumped back up quicker than I thought possible. I tried to keep him back with a few solid kicks, but he grabbed my foot. Now I knew I was in trouble.

Thankfully, Dean walked through the door just then. At the same moment, Sam twisted my leg, and I landed flat on my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Dean asked. "Why is she on the floor?"

Sam let go of my foot and I rolled onto my back to catch my breath.

"I was showing her how to defend herself," Sam said.

"Clearly she needs more practice," Dean teased.

Sam left himself open, so kicked at him and my foot connected with his hip. That got his attention. "Son of a bitch! That was a little close Nick!"

"Don't leave yourself open," I winked.

Dean chuckled. "She's not wrong man."


End file.
